


The Cabin

by auburnimp, zheyrryhn



Series: The Cabin [1]
Category: Weiß Kreuz
Genre: BDSM, M/M, Non Consensual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-09
Updated: 2013-03-09
Packaged: 2017-12-04 19:13:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/714072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/auburnimp/pseuds/auburnimp, https://archiveofourown.org/users/zheyrryhn/pseuds/zheyrryhn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yohji is an emotional disaster area so he's sent to the cabin in the mountains to recuperate with Aya as watchdog.  Things get out of hand from there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Cabin

Yohji stood in the back door of the Koneko smoking a cigarette, an open beer in his left hand, tears sliding down his cheeks. 

His latest flame, Kyoko had dumped him last night, left him sitting there at an expensive restaurant and walked out arm in arm with a business owner, the girl making it very clear that she wasn't interested in a florist. 

Ironic, considering she'd thought he didn't make the sort of money that would support a family. 

If only she knew. He probably spent more on dates in a week than her new boyfriend made in a month. 

Not that it mattered. He'd been very upfront with her that he wasn't interested in a family. 

Of course it was a lie. He wanted a family, wanted to come home from work, have dinner, put his feet up and listen to kids doing their homework at the kitchen table while his wife did dishes. 

But he was a bloody handed killer and none of that was possible. 

Not even when he fell in love. 

And he'd honestly loved Kyoko. 

He took a swallow of beer, a drag from his cigarette and debated telling Aya he didn't feel like going up to the cabin for a weekend vacation just the two of them. He already knew what would happen. They'd get up there and Aya would turn the 'vacation' into training or they'd get into a fight and he'd end up with a black eye or a split lip like last time they'd gone up there alone. 

Aya watched Yohji surreptitiously, a contemptuous sneer marring his otherwise beautiful face. The man was such a fool over women. Why couldn’t he see there was no future with any of them? Even Hidaka had realised that much. 

_Why won’t he see me?_

But you know the truth of that, don’t you? All he can really see is Asuka. He sees her in every woman he dates. Saw her in that Schrient bitch who led him to betray us all. 

And now Omi had come up with this harebrained scheme of sending Yohji up to the cabin to ‘recuperate’ and him along to baby sit the drinking, smoking and whoring mess. 

His eyes widened as an idea, mind boggling in its awful glory took root in his brain. Maybe he needed to do a little more packing. 

He darted up the stairs to his room and opened a closet. At the bottom of the closet was a cherry wood chest. He opened it and peered in. No, he couldn’t decide what to take now so he would take the whole chest. Kudoh would probably think it was something esoteric to do with his katana. 

He carried the chest downstairs ready to put in his car. 

Yohji finished his cigarette, put the butt out in the sand that filled a cracked flowerpot by the door and turned to head upstairs to pack with little enthusiasm. He stopped and stared at the chest Aya was carrying. 

"You're taking that?" 

“Yes. Any objections?” He glared at the blond. “If we’re going at all get moving.” 

Same Aya, a total bitch. The man never changes. 

"I'll go pack." 

Yohji headed up the stairs finished his beer, grabbed another one from the kitchen and went to his room to get a few changes of clothes. If he got too bored he'd just drive into the nearest town, find a bar and get drunk. 

He downed the beer while he was putting clothes in the small suitcase he usually took up to the cabin. He didn't need much, he'd left three changes of clothes there the last time they'd gone up for a vacation. 

Done he went into the kitchen, dropped the empty can in the trash, grabbed another beer and headed down stairs. 

Aya was waiting for him, but he didn't plan to ride with the red head, he was going to take Seven so he could leave if Aya got too annoying. 

Aya didn’t say a word, just leaned against his car whilst waiting for Yohji to discover the flat tyre on Seven. 

Which the blond did the instant he stepped outside. Jade eyes turned on Aya, narrowing in anger. "What the fuck did you do that for?" he asked, anger making his voice harsh. 

“So you don’t drive off to find drink and women while we’re there.” Aya was cold, calm and completely unphased by Yohji’s temper. “You’re being sent there to recuperate not make things worse.” 

"Recuperate from what! I haven't been sick!" Then the first part of what Aya said sank in. "What I do when I'm not working is my own fucking business!" And from the emphasis he put on the word, 'working' it was damned evident he wasn't referring to what they did at the florist shop. 

“Alcoholism is a sickness. Get in the car.” 

"Yeah, well so is being an uptight prick!" Yohji replied and downed the beer in his hand. He made no move toward the Porsche instead he went toward Seven to see what the bastard had done to the tire. 

Aya shook his head and simply waited. Yohji’s tantrums were annoying all of them and recently they’d been getting worse. Whether it was due to killing the Schrient woman or the constant drinking he didn’t know but they had to stop. 

"I'm not an alcoholic, Aya. So you and Omi can butt out," he muttered as he got to his feet. He walked around to the small trunk, got out his keys and opened it up. 

“Sometime today would be good, Kudoh.” 

Yohji got out the top to Seven and put it on without giving Aya any reply. When he was done he walked over to the Porsche, tossed his suitcase in the narrow back seat and got in on the passenger's side. 

He knew it was pointless to argue that he didn't need to go, and he also knew it would do him no good to ask about stopping for beer. They were determined to treat him like an alcoholic and no argument to the contrary was going to change the bastard red-head's mind. 

He pushed his sunglasses up, leaned back in the seat and decided that a nice long nap was in order. 

It wasn't like Aya would talk to him anyway. 

Aya climbed in behind the wheel and started the car. “Fasten your seatbelt,” he growled as he put his own around him. Then they were on their way. Aya slid a cd into the player and warm jazz filled the car. 

Yohji did up the seatbelt and wiggled on the seat to get settled. The music was perfect; the soft tones letting him drop quickly into a light doze. 

Aya drove for a while, letting the music soothe him while he thought about what he was going to do in the upcoming weekend. He was tired of being hurt, tired of being betrayed and tired of keeping all these feelings locked away. 

He glanced over at Yohji whose gentle snores told him the blond had fallen into a deeper sleep. He turned off the highway onto the road into the mountains and let his hand fall from the gear lever to rest on Yohji’s thigh. The warmth from the other man almost burned and he moved the hand slightly to feel what Yohji loved to show off with his tight pants. 

He licked his lips at the feel of it but a stir and mutter made him remove his hand in a hurry. 

A soft choking sound and a whimper, almost a sob came from the blond along with a mumbled, "Asuka." 

Aya gripped the wheel until his knuckles showed white. Asuka, always fucking Asuka. Never him, never Aya. Well perhaps he could change that. 

He drew up outside the cabin and stared at the still sleeping blond. So beautiful but he needed to be taught a few lessons. He climbed out of the car without disturbing Yohji and opened the trunk. Opening the chest he scrutinised the objects inside. He needed to restrain the blond but still get him out of the car and into the cabin. Once inside he could think about other things. 

Smiling slightly he withdrew a set of handcuffs. These were not pink furred play cuffs but genuine police issue and would hold Yohji until he could restrain him more thoroughly. 

He shut the chest and carried it into the cabin before going back to the car and opening the passenger door. He unfastened Yohji’s seatbelt and the handcuffs went round Yohji’s wrists in a split second and Aya stepped back quickly in case of flailing feet. 

Yohji woke up and blinked, looked at the cuffs on his wrists and raised his eyes to Aya. "You planning on explaining these? More to the point, you need to take them off." 

Satisfied that Yohji wasn’t going to attempt to kick out, at least for now, Aya hauled him out of the car and shut the door. “Get inside.” 

"Aya, what the fuck is this about?" The blond was getting an uneasy feeling that this trip to the cabin was his last one anywhere. 

He planted his feet and didn't move. He couldn't reach his watch, but he still had his feet. 

Aya folded his arms and stared at him. So beautiful with those deep green eyes still full of sleep. “Inside now. Unless you want me to drag you.” 

"Wouldn't it be better to just kill me out here where you don't have to clean up the blood?" Yohji asked, sure that he'd been brought here to die. Aya was the one who could do it, cold bastard that he was the fact Yohji had fought at his side, lived with him in the Koneko wouldn't matter to Abyssinian. 

Aya shook his head at such stupidity. “You think I’d need to cuff you to kill you? Am I holding my katana or any other weapon? Now stop being a fool and get in the cabin.” 

"Not until you take these cuffs off me, Aya," Yohji replied and held his wrists out. "If I'm not here to die, then there's no reason for these." 

Aya sighed and unfolded his arms. “You always have to do things the hard way.” He reached out with one hand and got hold of the short chain between the cuffs and pulled hard enough to drag Yohji forward. He started for the door of the cabin dragging Balinese with him. 

Yohji abruptly lunged forward, slamming into Aya with the intention of taking him off his feet. He didn't know what the hell Aya had planned but whatever it was he wanted nothing to do with it. 

Aya managed to keep his feet and swung his free fist catching Yohji on the jaw. Then he started pulling again. 

The blond staggered, pinpoints of light dancing in his vision. Being punched in the face was his one real weakness and Aya knew it. Some of the fight left him for a moment. He followed the pull of the cuffs, shook his head and rammed into Aya a second time. 

Aya turned snarling and backhanded the blond. “Why do you always have to fight me?” 

This time Yohji went down, dazed, blood running from a torn lip. "What the fuck is your problem, Fujimiya!" he demanded. "And I wouldn't be fighting you if you'd take these fucking handcuffs off me and stop acting like I'm something you fucking own!" 

Aya leant over him, lifting his chin to stare into his eyes. “But for this weekend at least, I do own you, Kudoh.” Then he licked the blood from the side of Yohji’s mouth. 

Jade eyes widened as Aya's tongue swept over the edge of his lips. He twisted his head. "Have you lost your damned mind!" he snarled. He pulled back, stared at his asexual team mate. In all the time he'd known Aya not once had he shown any trace of sexuality, and now this? 

The whole thing was wrong. "Fujimiya, what's wrong with you? Did that Schwarz bastard get into your head?" it was the only thing that made sense. And even that didn't make any sense. Aya was so strong willed he didn’t think even the vaunted telepathic ability of Schuldig could do much to Aya's mind. 

But there wasn't any other explanation. 

Unless... 

But no, that couldn't be it. Aya couldn't be gay... could he? 

And even if he was that didn't explain what he'd just done. 

Or did it? 

Aya raised a brow in disdain. “Nothing is wrong with me. I haven’t lost my mind nor has anyone messed with it.” _Except perhaps you._

Why am I doing this? Why do I want you so much? There are plenty of other men out there. Okama, willing to do whatever I want. 

“Now get up and get in the fucking cabin.” 

Yohji struggled, got to his knees and got a foot under him and shoved, gained his feet. "Take these off of me Aya," he asked quietly. "I don't know what you thought you were doing, but these have to come off. Now." He made no move to go into the cabin. 

“You’re not listening to me, Kudoh. I’m in charge while we’re here, not you. Now move unless you want me to hit you again.” 

"Fuck you Aya. I'm not taking that shit from you or anyone else!" Yohji struggled with the cuffs a little, trying to get one of his hands free. 

Aya backhanded him a second time. “I said move, Kudoh.” 

Yohji blinked as a few stars pin wheeled through his vision. Blood filled his mouth from a cut inside his cheek. "Aya, have you fucking lost it?" 

“No. I’ve finally decided something. If you’re here to get over the booze and the women that’s precisely what you’re going to do, for once and for all. Now move it before I drag you.” 

Yohji was pissed. Totally and completely pissed. Who the fuck did Aya think he was, his owner? His fucking master? 

"I'm not here to do any such fucking thing. I'll drink if I want and fuck as many women as I want. And try to drag me and I swear I'll kick your fucking ass, handcuffs or no handcuffs." 

Aya was totally unmoved. “Have you done?” 

Yohji glared at the younger killer. "No, get me out of these," he snapped holding his cuffed wrists out to Aya. 

“You seem almost frantic about those cuffs. Is there any reason for that?” There was a gleam of curiosity in the lavender eyes mixed with something darker, more dangerous. 

"And you'd want to be in them? Come on Aya, get these off of me," Yohji said. But he was uneasy. There was something almost sinister in the look in his team mate's eyes. 

Finally tired of the game and wanting to be inside Aya stepped forward quick as sound and pushed Yohji backwards towards the door. 

But Yohji'd been ready this time and he grabbed one of Aya's wrists with both his hands and brought his knee up, going for the other man's groin. "Remember you started this shit." 

But Aya, graceful as any dancer, grabbed the knee and put Yohji on his butt again. “A beginner’s move,” he said scornfully. 

Yohji twisted as he fell, and lashed out with his feet, hoping to bring the bastard down. 

Aya cursed as one flailing leg caught him behind the knee and brought him down on top of the blond. He raised himself on his hands and glared down. 

Jade eyes widened and Yohji went dead white. "Get off of me!" he shouted and shoved at Aya, a hint of panic tingeing his voice. 

The curiosity was back in Aya’s eyes. “First the cuffs, now this. What are you so afraid of, Kudoh?” Of course he made no effort at all to get off and Yohji’s shove wasn’t nearly enough to move him. 

"Oh I don't know Aya, you're acting crazy and you're wondering why I'm nervous?" Aya wasn't acting right. Not at all. And the way he was acting... No Yohji wouldn't believe something that crazy. Not about Aya. There had to be something going on in the man's head other than what Yohji's mind was starting to thing about. No way was Aya interested in him sexually. The whole idea was just preposterous. 

Aya snorted, the smallest of smiles crossing his lips. “Crazy am I? No, Kudoh, I’ve finally come to my senses.” Then, as if to answer the question he leaned down and kissed Yohji. It was the barest touch of lip to lip, almost tender and very fleeting. 

Yohji went wild, flailing and shoving at Aya. "Get the fuck off of me you okama bastard!" 

Aya chuckled and rode out the storm. “I never had you down as homophobic before. I mean you accept Ken and Omi happily enough.” 

"Yeah well neither of them have tried to kiss me either. I don't care what they do so long as my ass is left out of it. Now get off of me," Yohji was struggling to breathe, gasping from the exertion of trying to dislodge the stubborn red haired bastard. 

Finally it all fell into place in Aya’s mind. No wonder Yohji had never even noticed him. He was completely heterosexual. And yet there was something about the blond that screamed okama. The revealing, skin tight clothing, the artfully dishevelled hair and a truly straight man would be more angry or curious at this point. Yohji was terrified. 

He climbed to his feet and stared down at the blond. _Kami-sama but he’s beautiful, especially a bit battered and bloodied._

It didn’t matter what the blond wanted. He had three years of frustration and yearning to pay for and it was time he knew exactly what the future held for him. A future as Aya’s slave. 

Yohji watched Aya warily, even more uneasy because of the strange look in the man's gaze. There was something there he knew, but he couldn't quite understand it. 

And then it hit him. Lust. Desire. 

Yohji scrambled away from Aya, gaining his feet and running, trying to escape one of the few things he feared: having his bisexuality revealed. No one knew about it, not even Kritiker because it lay far back in his early teen years. Long before he'd even met Asuka. 

Aya’s brows rose as he gave chase. Yohji really was terrified but he’d seen the bulge in the blond’s pants before he’d scrambled away. This got more interesting by the minute. A bisexual Yohji opened up a whole new world of possibilities. 

Yohji wasn't about to let Aya catch him. He ran, heading down the rough gravel road, intent on getting out to the highway--which was admittedly farther than he could actually run--and finding someone who could get him to a phone. 

Ken and Omi would come to get him if he could just get to a phone and let them know Aya had lost his mind. At least he kept telling himself that. For all he knew they were in on it. But he couldn't believe that, they wouldn't set him up to be raped by Aya would they? 

_Would they?_

Aya took the shortcut through the fir trees. The laboured breathing was telling him exactly where Yohji was and he would be able to cut him off at the next curve. He was resigned to having to knock the blond cold this time and haul his sorry ass all the way back up the hill to the cabin. 

Yohji started to cough, the years of smoking catching up to him but he kept running knowing Aya was behind him somewhere. He reached the curve in the road and had to slow down even more because he just couldn't breathe. 

He hoped Aya would get the message, would just lay off and forget whatever insane thoughts he'd been having. They could go back to the way things used to be, Aya his cold asexual self and he could return to trying to set the record for most girls fucked before age thirty. 

Aya stepped out in front of him and punched him hard in the temple. “Fucking awkward bastard,” he snarled. 

Yohji hit the gravel dazed, the impact with the ground knocking the little bit of air in his lungs out, leaving him gasping for air, dizzy from the punch to his head. 

He didn't want anything to do with gay sex. Not with anyone and especially not with the cold blooded killer who'd just about knocked him out cold. 

Aya bent over him and hauled him over one shoulder before straightening up and trudging up the hill towards the cabin. 

The blond kicked, but he couldn't get his breath, and the fact that the way Aya was carrying him added to his dizziness didn't help either. 

"Aya... w... what the... hell..." 

But Aya wasn’t talking anymore, conserving his energy to get them both back to his original goal. 

Once he got them to the cabin he dumped Yohji on the sofa before closing the door. “All you had to do was walk into the fucking place, but no. You had to turn it into a fucking Noh play!” 

"Sorry," Yohji panted, too tired to move, "I'll go for... kabuki… next time..." 

“Hn. Get your breath back while I make some coffee.” 

"I need... the bathroom." Yohji's hands hurt, he'd cut them on the gravel when he'd been knocked down, and he didn't feel very good, a bit of nausea roiling in his stomach. 

Fear. He knew the sensation. He'd felt it that day as a kid when he'd been stupid enough to let an older man seduce him. Have him. 

He'd sworn he'd never let another man touch him, and for the last ten years none had. 

And he wasn't about to let Aya do that to him. Not a chance. 

“You know where it is or am I expected to carry you there too?” 

"Handcuffs!" Yohji replied and held his hands up. He got a look at his hands and wrists. "Son of a bitch!" The cuffs had cut his skin, and bruised him. Very visible marks showing on his skin. "How the hell do I explain that to Ken and Omi?" 

Aya came back from the kitchen with two mugs of steaming coffee and placed them both on the table. “You can manage in the cuffs,” he said calmly. 

"No Aya, I can't." He showed Aya his gravel cut hands. "And I want them off." 

Aya leant over him until their faces were inches apart. “When are you going to come to terms with the fact that I don’t give a rat’s ass what you want? It’s what I want that matters here.” 

Yohji threw the full power of his shoulders into shoving Aya away, with a snarled, "I'm not your fucking property!" 

“Yet.” Aya sat down in one of the armchairs and picked up his coffee. “I think by this time tomorrow you will be.” 

Yohji went dead white and he got unsteadily to his feet. "I'd rather die," he said flatly and headed for the bathroom. 

Aya took a sip of his coffee. “Is that why you were semi hard after I got off you?” 

"I wasn't!" Yohji retorted. But he knew he had been, not of his own volition, his body reacting to something his mind wasn't willing to let happen. 

“Sit down and drink your coffee. I’ll deal with your scratches after.” 

But Yohji kept walking, wanting nothing to do with Aya. He headed for the bathroom, closed the door and locked it. 

Alone in the bathroom with a locked door between them he could try and find something to use to pick the lock on the handcuffs. 

Aya shook his head and put his coffee down. He crossed to where he’d dumped his coat and reached into one of the pockets. Extracting a small package he laid it out on the table and selected one of the lock picks from it. He marched over to the bathroom and picked the lock on the door, flinging it open to find Yohji frantically searching for something. 

Yohji turned around, a small nail file in his hand, the end jammed in the lock of the cuffs. "Fucking leave me alone, Fujimiya!" 

Aya dragged the blond out of the bathroom and knocked him out cold. Then he dragged him up the stairs to the mezzanine level and into his bedroom. He dumped him on the bed before going back down for the chest he’d brought from the Koneko. He opened the chest and gazed thoughtfully at the contents. 

He doubted if he had time to tie a proper harness before Yohji came round again so satisfied himself with some soft scarves. He removed the handcuffs and replaced them with one of the scarves wrapped round the blond’s wrists in a figure eight and then tied in the middle. Another scarf went between Yohji’s wrists and was tied to the headboard. Two more scarves secured his ankles in a spread eagled position before he was satisfied. 

Having admired his handiwork and checked that the knots were secure without restricting the blood supply he waited for Yohji to come round. 

Yohji's head ached. And then he remembered why. 

Aya. 

The red head had gone stark raving mad. 

Yohji groaned, tried to move, found that he was tied securely. 

He opened his eyes, but he already knew where he was. 

Aya's room, on his bed. 

He started to struggle already knowing his efforts would prove futile. 

“You’re wasting your time, Kudoh. I’ve had too much experience to get it wrong now.” 

He approached the bed, a small knife in his hand, and started to cut the clothes from the blond’s body. 

"You'd better be planning to kill me, you fucking bastard, because if you don't, I swear I'm going to kill you the first chance I get!" Yohji gritted out as Aya made the first cut in his clothing. 

Aya ignored the outburst totally and continued to cut the clothing off his captive. When he’d finished and Yohji was lying naked in the remains of his clothes, he drew back again to take his first real look at the object of his desire. “Beautiful.” 

Colour flooded Yohji's face and he snarled, embarrassed and frustrated by his own helplessness. 

"Aya, please don't do this to me," he tried to reason since cursing and threats hadn't worked. 

“Don’t do what to you? Look at you?” He leaned down again to gaze into those pretty green eyes. “Why are you so afraid, Kudoh? The only reason I’ve hurt you is because you made life difficult for yourself and yet, I don’t think it’s pain you’re afraid of. I think it’s yourself.” 

"You hurt me because you're a bastard Aya. I didn't want to be cuffed and you don't have any reason to have me tied up now. And cutting my clothes off, what the hell is that about?" And Yohji was scared. Scared of this strange man who looked like his team mate but acted like a totally different person. 

“It’s about pleasure, Kudoh. My pleasure. And I thought you were the man of experience.” The tone was mocking. “You just assumed that I had no time or inclination for sex. You were wrong.” 

Every bit of colour vanished from Yohji's face. "Your... pleasure...." he whispered, too horrified to finish the thought. 

“Yes, Yohji, my pleasure. Sometimes it’s mixed with pain and sometimes it isn’t but I do need to be in complete control and I’ve decided that you’re going to be mine.” 

"Let me go, Aya. I... don't usually beg for what I want, but, please, don't do this. Not to me." And he was begging, wanting Aya to see reason, wanting the man to let him go, let him go back to living life his own way. 

“Why should I listen? Did you listen when we warned you about Neu?” Although Yohji’s pleas had gone straight to his groin he wasn’t prepared to let him see how pleased he was with him. 

With the right training he could be breathtaking. 

"Okay, I admit it, I was being a fool. Are you happy? But please Aya, don't do this. I... I can't be what you want. I'm not gay." 

Aya folded his arms and leaned against the dresser. “Really? Then why did you go hard when I was on top of you? Whatever you might or might not admit, you were interested.” 

He felt helpless lying there tied down to the bed naked with those cool violet eyes regarding him from behind that bland mask of a face. He felt the heat flood his face, aware of exactly where those eyes had wandered. 

Aya was staring at his groin. 

There was the very faintest of smiles on Aya’s face as he said softly, “I’ve been wondering what you taste like.”

He didn't want to react to anything the red-haired killer was saying, so Yohji brought up the worst memory he had of a mission, remembering the gutted corpse and the awful smell of death. 

One of Aya's kills. 

"Have you finally lost it Aya? I'm not gay! What do you plan to do, rape me? And then what? Pretend I liked it? And what in hell will Kritiker say when I tell them what you did and why I won't stay with Weiss." 

Aya totally ignored his outburst as he pushed himself away from the dresser and approached the bed again. “You’ll stay with Weiss,” he predicted. He reached across and lightly flicked Yohji’s cock, watching with dark amusement as it sprang to life. 

Yohji tried to lunge for Aya, face twisted in anger, but the scarves didn't let him go far, which was a good thing for the red head because he would have choked the other man to death at that moment. 

“You might not think you’re interested, Yohji, but your body is, very interested in fact.” He gazed down at his captive as he considered his next move. 

"Aya my dick gets hard for a cool breeze. It's got nothing to do with you!" Yohji argued. While it wasn't entirely the truth it also wasn't a total lie. His cock did have the annoying habit of going hard at inconvenient times. Like now. 

Sure, at one time in his life he'd fooled around with men. But he'd been in high school and he'd grown out of experimenting with sex. He'd become a connoisseur of the female form and wanted nothing to do with being fucked anymore. 

Aya ignored that argument just as he’d ignored all the others. Instead he squatted down and took hold of Yohji’s erection in one strong hand. Leaning forward he licked the head paying close attention to the sensitive slit. 

Yohji went totally still, eyes wide, hands gripping the scarves tying him to the headboard. Aya had just-- 

His mind just refused to accept what was happening. 

Nothing he knew about the other killer had prepared him for this. For the fact that Aya, cold emotionless killer Aya was licking his cock. 

A tiny bead of precum leaked onto Aya’s tongue and he lapped it up, savouring the unique salty-sweet taste that was all Yohji. He’d known he’d taste good, just not how good. 

He took more of Yohji’s cock into his mouth and started to suck in earnest. 

Yohji really didn't want what Aya was doing, but his downfall was his hedonist nature. It felt good. Really good and he couldn't stop himself from groaning at the feel of hot wet flesh engulfing the head of his cock. 

Yohji’s groans were as music to Aya’s ears and he smiled round his treat as he continued to suck, determined to make Yohji come. 

The blond fought the restraints. He wanted free, wanted Aya to stop, wanted to shove the red-head down and-- 

_No. I don't want to fuck him. And I sure as hell don't want him to get the idea he can fuck me!_

"Stop it Aya," he forced the order out, but what he wanted to do was moan the man's name. Considering how Aya'd been acting it was the last thing he'd let happen. There was no way in hell he'd put up with Aya telling him what he could or couldn't do in or out of bed, or with whom. 

Aya considered obeying Yohji and letting him deal with the frustration but he tasted too good to stop. 

Yohji considered trying to twist away, but the nearness of the teeth under the soft lips encasing him kept him from taking that route out of the situation. 

But if he didn't break free soon he'd face the inevitable conclusion of coming in Aya's mouth and if that happened there would be no possible way out of this mess ever. 

The worst thing about it wasn't the teeth, it was how that hot skilled mouth felt. Aya wasn't just good, he had incredible technique that sent such pleasure through him that Yohji wasn't sure he could make himself pull away. 

He groaned and twisted his hips but his heart wasn't in it. Not really. That wonderful mouth and tongue were turning his thought processes to mush. 

Aya almost felt Yohji begin to waver, to give in and he sucked all the harder, teasing with his tongue and exerting just the right amount of pressure with his hand. 

He wanted to pet the blond but knew that if he showed any weakness at all just yet he would lose this battle of wills and that was unthinkable. He wanted lazy, graceful and beautiful Balinese too much to lose. 

Yohji drew in a shuddering breath, eyes closing as the sensations overwhelmed his resistance. Aya's mouth knew all the right things to do, every sweep of the firm velvet of his tongue, the firm grip of his hand a conspiracy that finally did the blond in. 

"Aya..." he didn't mean to groan the other man's name, but he couldn't help it, couldn't stop the harsh gasp that followed or the twitch of his hips as he bucked into the exquisite pleasures he was being given. 

Oh it was worth all the waiting, all the aggravation and all the frustration of the past years just to hear Yohji moan out his name like that. 

He redoubled his efforts, wanting to feel Yohji’s cock twitch before he came, wanting to taste more of his salt sweet essence. 

The blond gasped, shuddering under the onslaught of a man who knew exactly what he was doing with the meat in his mouth. 

"A... Aya... kami-sama..." he gasped, fighting not to cum because he wanted the whole thing to last longer. He sucked in a fast breath, let it out, forcing himself to breathe, pacing himself. 

Aya relaxed and let himself enjoy the texture and flavour of Yohji’s cock, licking his way up the thick vein underneath it, teasing the sensitive head, engulfing it once again. 

Yohji got his breathing under control, hands tight on the scarves. "You're good... Aya... damn good," he admitted as the man's tongue moved across the head of his cock. He sucked in a deep breath, let it out slowly, the urgency building in him easing off. "Untie me. I want to touch you, Aya." 

_Touch him, hell. I want to fuck his ass, that's what I want. Damn him._

Aya pulled away from Yohji’s cock and stared at him. It was tempting, the idea of those big, wire-calloused hands on his skin, but he knew that Yohji would want to take control and he couldn’t allow that. Not yet, perhaps not ever. 

He removed his clothes and lay down against the blond, revelling in the feel of skin against skin. 

“There, now you’re touching me.” 

Yohji groaned. He wanted to grab, hold, touch that perfect skin. Wanted to hold Aya and touch every inch of him. 

And that's when it sank into his brain. 

This was Aya and this just couldn't happen. 

"Damn it," he growled and twisted his body trying to get free. "You almost had me, Fujimiya. Almost." 

Aya nodded to himself. He’d been wise not to give into temptation and free Yohji. The man wasn’t ready to admit to his desires just yet. 

He could repeat back what he’d just said, but he knew that would never work. Yohji was almost as good at denial as Omi was and he was ten times more stubborn. 

He rubbed against Yohji sinuously like a cat might, a big, dangerous cat like a leopard rather than a tame domestic puss. 

The feel of Aya writhing against him, the way the man touched his body sent a flare of desire through Yohji. He shuddered, his mind recalling the feel of another man touching him. 

He teetered between desire and indecision. Wanting and denying. Needing and rejecting. All the while that sleek predator body moved beside him, pressing against him. 

And damn everything to hell, he knew he'd lose himself if he gave into the other man but at the same time he wanted what he was being offered. 

"I won't be owned. Not by you or anyone else," he warned, right at the brink of surrendering to the lust heating his body. 

Aya raised his head to gaze at him. “Right now there’s nothing you can do to stop me. I’ve waited too long for this to let you escape now. You’re mine, Yohji. You just don’t know it yet. But you will.” 

Yohji sighed, one gold brow rising. "You think fucking me is going to make me yours? Don't count on that." 

Aya shook his head. “No. I don’t think that at all. Whoever it was that made such a bad job of fucking you before doesn’t own you now, does he? And there was someone so don’t try to deny it.” 

Yohji just shrugged because there wasn't any point in denying his past anymore. "All right I won't. And it was more than one someone, there were several older men, Aya, and a couple of guys my age too. But that was back in high school. I got over it." He looked Aya right in the eyes. "And believe me, it wasn't a bad job, I enjoyed it--" he thought about why he had stopped, but that wasn't any of Aya's business. "I just enjoy women more. I always have and I always will." 

Aya nodded. It was as he’d suspected. Yohji was bisexual but in strong denial for some reason that he suspected had something to do with his past. Something clicked in his head. 

“Is that why you’re so afraid of being restrained? Did someone hurt you?” And the rage that thought raised surprised him. 

"What happened in my past isn't any of your business, Aya. Isn't it enough for you to know that I don't like it or doesn't how I feel matter?" Yohji's mouth twisted into a displeased grimace. "Never mind. You've already answered that one. I believe it was something to the effect that only what you wanted mattered." 

Aya stroked Yohji’s golden skin wondering if he should just forget the whole thing. This was Yohji, the one who had tried to be his friend, the one who had named him, the one who had got too fucking close. 

That thought strengthened his resolve again. Yes, way too fucking close and now the blond was going to pay for all the teasing, the little digs and the name he bore. “That’s right,” he agreed. “That’s how it usually works between master and slave.” 

"If that's some kind of fucking joke, it's not funny, Aya." Yohji twisted his body craned his neck to get a look at how he was tied to the bedframe. If he could see the knots he might be able to get himself free. 

“They’re slipknots,” Aya informed him, “so the more you struggle the tighter they become.” He resumed his stroking of that silken skin, enjoying the feel of it under his hand, considering his next move. 

"Thanks for telling me," Yohji replied, ignoring the feel of the caresses that moved over his body. He twisted around a little more, the scarves holding his ankles preventing him from going all the way over onto his stomach but he had enough flexibility that he could work on the knots. Strong, nimble fingers testing Aya's work for any weakness he could exploit. 

Tired of Yohji’s intractability, Aya stopped caressing and brought a hand down on Yohji’s bare ass hard enough to leave a red handprint. 

"Bastard!" Yohji snarled and struggled to get one of the knots free. The slap stung, but it wasn't anything compared to being shot or stabbed. 

And none of that compared with the pain he'd felt when Asuka died. 

Aya’s eyes narrowed at both the curse and the persistent struggling. “Do I have to use the cuffs again?” 

"I swear to all the gods that are and ever were, Aya, if you don't fucking let me go right now I'm going to fucking kill you the first chance I get. I'm fucking serious," Yohji snarled as he struggled to get even one of the knots free. 

And under his anger there was still that edge of fear. The tinge of panic over what his team mate, one of the men he'd trusted with his life, was doing to him. 

After all the danger they'd faced, all the times they'd saved one another's lives he still couldn't accept what Aya was doing to him. 

Aya leaned over him and nuzzled at the spot where Yohji’s neck met his shoulder, his tongue flicking out to taste the soft skin. He should have known this wouldn’t be an easy conquest. Kudoh had always had to do things the hard way. 

"Just stop it, damn you," Yohji growled, his fingers fighting with the knot, making no headway in his effort to escape. 

The horrible thing about the sensual attack Aya had launched was that it felt good and his damn traitor cock was still hard. 

Aya pulled away to glance down at the blond. “What makes you think I’m going to listen to your demands? All your struggling and growling will achieve nothing.” He ran a hand down Yohji’s back and over the curve of his ass before moving away again. “If you relaxed you’d probably enjoy it.” 

"I don't want to enjoy it damn you, I want loose! I don't want to have sex with you Aya, I don't want to be your anything. Not your lover. Slave, fucking boytoy, nothing!" Yohji snapped as he pulled at the knot. 

He wasn't getting anywhere with his effort to escape and that added to his frustration, and the ache of his cock didn't help. 

Sighing slightly in annoyance, Aya climbed off the bed and went back to his chest. He was obviously going to have to teach Yohji the error of his ways. He selected another of those soft scarves and a leather paddle and went back to the bed. Straddling Yohji he pulled on the blond hair until his captive’s head came up enough for him to secure the scarf as an effective blindfold. 

Yohji bucked under Aya, but the angle his body was turned at kept him from moving very much. 

Tied, blindfolded, unable to see he had no chance to escape. "Damn you, Aya. Do you think I'm joking? I'll kill you! Fucking let me go!" 

His heart was hammering, the blond realizing how helpless he was, and how hopeless his situation was becoming. 

Aya intended to... what? Rape him? Or was this all some warped game to make him stop drinking and whoring? 

"Look, I'll stop drinking so much if that's what this is all about. I'll even cut back on the women if that's what it takes to get me out of this, now let me go!" 

“I’ve already told you what this is about.” Aya’s deep voice was cold, harsh concealing all trace of what his real feelings might be. He stood still, considering Yohji’s helpless body before smiling slightly. 

The paddle came down hard first on one butt cheek then the other, reddening the soft golden skin to a rosy glow. 

Yohji went totally still, his ass burning, heart pounding, hands clutching the scarves holding him captive for Aya's use, the blond furious. 

The blond rolled onto his back, lips curled into the cold mockery of a smile. "Trying to pretend you're my father now?" he questioned in a nasty tone of voice. "It never worked for him, and it's not going to work for you." 

Aya stared down at the blond wondering if the mouthy bastard was actually worth the effort until his gaze travelled over the still rock hard cock standing proud from its golden nest. He touched it gently with the paddle. 

That hadn't been a hand touching his cock. The object was hard, cool and Yohji's brain made the identification. The paddle that Aya had used on his butt had just touched his erection. 

If Aya struck his cock with the paddle... 

Yohji's jaw clenched waiting for the pain. 

The edge of the paddle was rubbed up the underside of Yohji’s cock, scraping along the thick vein there before the flat side was drawn back down to the blond’s balls. 

“You make a lot of noise for someone who is obviously excited by what’s happening to him, no matter how hard you try to deny it.” 

"Don't make it out to be more than my body doing what it always does. I get hard for a cool breeze, Aya." That was true enough, he did get hard easily. 

The thing that was worrying Yohji was the fact that he'd stayed hard while Aya manhandled him. And he was still hard even under the expectation of pain. 

Shouted accusations, old humiliation. Memories from a long gone past. Under the blindfold Yohji closed his eyes. 

Women. He loved women. 

He focused on that, told himself that his reaction to Aya was all wrong. 

Wrong because it was women he wanted. Not men. 

As if he could read the blond’s thoughts Aya withdrew the paddle, leaving it on the bed while he padded back over to the chest and extracted a butt plug. 

_Let’s see what the playboy makes of this._

He removed a tube of lube and was very thorough in his preparation of the plug. Then he went back to the bed, reached under Yohji’s balls and inserted it in his anus. 

Yohji gave a strangled cry, body going tense as his anus was stretched. As his ass was filled. He couldn't move. Couldn't breathe, the compression on his insides sending a jolt of pleasure through him that made his cock jump. 

“You like that do you?” Aya leaned forward and blew warm, moist air across the head of Yohji’s cock. 

"Don't. Just don't," Yohji said, his voice tight, fighting the sensation of the butt plug and the warm caress of Aya's breath over his cock. 

His resolve eroding, Yohji gritted his teeth and fought for control of his body. 

“Why not? Afraid you might actually enjoy it?” Aya pulled away again and smirked down at the blond even though he knew Yohji couldn’t see the expression. He would own the beautiful man, would fight for what he wanted if that was what it took. And what he wanted was Yohji. 

"Because I don't want you, damn it!" Yohji replied, grasping at the first thing that came to mind. He wanted free, wanted out of there, far from Aya and his too skilful seductions. 

“I thought we’d already ascertained that this is about what I want not what you want.” 

Aya sat back on his haunches, considering his options. 

Yohji stopped arguing and lay there silent, mind trying to work out what had happened to the man he thought he knew. Aya seemed to have lost his mind, but Yohji came to the conclusion that he'd really never known the other man. 

And he didn't want to know him this way. 

He closed his eyes and tried to relax, found he couldn't with the invasion of the butt plug pressing against the cluster of nerves at the base of his prostate. 

He held himself still, and to his relief his cock started to lose some of the rigidity. 

Aya saw what he was trying to do and manipulated the protruding end of the butt plug just enough to stoke over Yohji’s sweet spot a few times. 

Yohji gritted his teeth against the moan that tried to escape as the plug sent a cascade of pleasure through his body. And damn if his traitor cock didn't go fully erect from the sensation of the contact of the hard object being manipulated inside his body. 

He groped with his right hand, trying to find the knot, wanting to get free. Knowing he wasn't going to escape. 

Not from Aya. 

His only recourse was to stop fighting, let Aya do his worst and ride it out, hope that the red-head would get done with this game and get the lust or whatever it was out of his system. 

Aya removed the butt plug, wanting to replace it with his cock. He could see that Yohji was ready to ride out the storm and hope that would be the end of it but he had other ideas. 

He wondered if he dare untie the blond’s legs then snorted to himself at the idea. Only if he wanted to be kicked across the room and he didn’t. 

He stared down at the blond as he worked out his next move and became fascinated with the full and sensual mouth under the blindfold over Yohji’s eyes. He leaned forward and kissed it. 

It wasn’t the gentle and fleeting affair from outside but instead a bruising of lips and an unspoken demand for a response. 

Yohji gritted his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut, hands grasping the scarves holding his wrists as he was assaulted by that unyielding, demanding mouth. 

He couldn't breathe right, or maybe Aya was sucking the air from his body, but his lips parted in a gasp, seeking a breath of air. 

It was all the invitation Aya needed and his tongue darted in to taste the interior of Yohji’s warm mouth. Delicious, even better than he’d imagined. 

A tongue surged into his mouth and Yohji lay still under Aya's continuing assault, the kiss beginning to weaken his resistance. He'd wanted just to endure through this, not enjoy it, but not only was Aya good at sucking cock, his kisses were just as expert. 

He had to get a breath lack of oxygen making him a little dizzy. 

Yohji twisted his head aside, lips bruised, the blond sucking in a gasping breath. He had to refuse any more kisses like that. He'd let Aya fuck him if that's what it took to gain his freedom, but he wasn't going to let Aya kiss him that way. Not when it threatened to crumble his resistance and left his lips so sore. 

Aya twisted his fingers in Yohji’s hair and pulled his head back into a position where he could kiss him again. This time the kiss was less bruising, gentler, more exploratory. 

It was the kiss of a lover. 

Yohji wanted to fight, wanted what Aya was doing to stop. He didn't love men. He didn't want a male lover. He loved women. Women. 

Aya's tongue was in his mouth. Invading. Touching his tongue. 

He didn't want a man touching him. 

Didn't want a man kissing him. 

But damn it all to Hell, what Aya was doing felt good. 

Worse, for some reason, despite his own resolve and denials, it felt right. 

Aya moved away from the blond’s mouth and moved to that spot where neck met shoulder, the little cavity just above the collar bone, and sucked and nuzzled there until he had left a mark. Then he moved further down and sampled an already pebbled nipple. 

Yohji lay there, tense, trying not to respond to what Aya was doing, but his cock was hard as steel, aching so much he didn't know how long he could stand it before he made a sound or did something else that would end every semblance of resistance. 

"Aya..." voice choked, full of tension. "Please, don't do this. Please, Aya, let me go." Begging, pleading. Futile. He knew it, but he had to try one last time for the sake of his own pride. 

On another occasion Aya might have listened, might have let Yohji go, but three years of pent up frustration would not let him do that now he finally had the object of his desire exactly where he wanted him. 

He knew he needed to release one of Yohji’s legs for the next stage and considered how best to go about that without the blond kicking him halfway across the room. 

Then he had an idea and his mouth closed once more round the head of Yohji’s cock while he undid the scarf restraining one ankle. 

The feel of flesh clasping his cock, the wet heat of that skilled mouth hit Yohji with the force of a sensual hurricane. He groaned, hips lifting off the bed, the need to cum after being erect so long without more than a bit of teasing caught him off guard. 

He felt the hand on his ankle, but it didn't have the same sort of importance as the mouth on his cock did. 

Aya kept one hand on Yohji’s ankle and reached for the tube of lube with the other, smearing it over his own erection. His mouth remained round Yohji’s cock, tongue teasing at the slit. 

It took a few moments but Yohji realized one of his ankles was free, only Aya's hand resting on it. 

Partially free, both hands held, blindfolded. He could kick. Hurt Aya. Risk more of the man's anger. 

And the mouth on his cock could cause pain, teeth ripping skin if he kicked Aya. 

The blond vacillated, wanting free, wanting to cum. 

A scent reached him. One he knew well. Lube. Aya planning to fuck him. 

He groaned, fighting the urge to lay there, let Aya keep sucking him, allow himself to be pleasured. But Aya was a man. He shouldn't be letting this happen. Shouldn't be giving in to the pleasure. 

Hedonist. He always expected it would get him into trouble. He just hadn't expected the man who'd take advantage of him would be Aya. 

One of Schwarz, yes. But Aya? No. 

He needed to make his move. But that mouth, that wonderful mouth held him captive. 

Gently Aya moved the freed leg while still enjoying the salty sweet taste of Yohji’s precum. He pushed it upwards and over until Yohji’s body rolled sideways with the weight of it. Moving his hold to behind Yohji’s knee he bent the leg over until that puckered opening that he longed to sink into was exposed. Only then did he let go of Yohji’s cock as he eased himself behind the taller man, positioning himself. 

One firm but gentle thrust had him inside the already stretched passage and he had to stop for a second or two to adapt to the tight heat that surrounded him. He felt welcomed, felt at home but he knew he was still an unwelcome guest here as yet. 

Slowly he began to move his hips against Yohji’s. 

Cock. Aya's inside him. 

He lay there, the hard flesh moving inside him. The old feeling of being filled, of being fucked by another man sending the remembered pleasure through his body. Electrical spark delight as his prostate was stroked, as the wonderful cock stroked his insides. 

Aya. Red-haired bastard Aya taking what he'd never wanted to give to any man ever again. Wanting to own, to dominate. 

Always the same thing. Never equals. Always dom and sub. 

And Yohji hated it. Hated feeling owned. Being nothing more than a possession. A convenient hole. 

"Damn you!" he growled, the sound part anger, half desire. 

“No Yohji, damn you for making me resort to this.” The deep voice close to his ear was full of desire but also angry. “If you’d just once noticed me as something other than a team mate. . .” 

Useless to speculate now, useless to let the blond know that he could have had anything he’d wanted from Aya. 

So now they were here and he had what he’d wanted but it wasn’t enough. 

"Why would I notice you, Aya? In case you haven't noticed, you're a man. A man, Aya. When have you ever seen me date a man?" Yohji retorted, starting to struggle, but knowing there was no way for him to get free. Not until it was over and Aya had finished what he was doing. 

Raping him. Aya forcing himself on Yohji, taking what wasn't offered. 

"Damn you, Aya. Damn you," Yohji's voice broke, a gasp coming from him as the sensations in his lower body grew too hard for him to ignore. 

What Aya was doing felt good. But he hadn't wanted this. Not with any man. Not ever again. 

He drew in a gasping breath, cock aching, needing contact with a hand, a mouth, anything. But Aya was just like all the others. Only his pleasure mattered, not that of the man he used. 

Yohji gave a brittle laugh. 

The sound made Aya flinch and he almost pulled out as shame overtook him. Almost but it felt too good to be inside the object of his desires so he continued moving towards completion his hand moving from Yohji’s knee to his erection, holding the blond’s beautiful cock in his sword calloused hand. 

Slowly he began to stroke in time to his still gentle thrusts. 

_Please,_ he was thinking, _please let him make any sound but that mocking laughter._

Rapist Aya, touching him. Showing some small consideration for what he was taking by giving something in return. 

And it felt good. So very good, the pleasure spiralling up, weakening Yohji's anger, his body responding, will eroding. 

He clutched at the scarves binding him, clenched his jaw to keep from crying out, his breath coming in ragged gasps that he couldn't control, couldn't stop as his body surrendered to the pleasure. 

Yohji couldn't resist anymore, a groan slipping from him, hips twitching with the movement of Aya's thrusts. 

Aya gradually quickened the pace, going deeper, harder, faster, his hand a counterpoint to the rhythm of his hips. 

Yohji gasped, pressed his ass back, wanting the cock deeper, wanting to feel all of it inside him, the hand stroking his erection and the flesh inside his body drove him relentlessly toward orgasm. 

"Ah.... Ah..." he couldn't keep silent, couldn't hold in the gasping cries anymore. 

Lost, he was lost in the sensations, in the pleasure flooding his senses. 

Aya thrust harder, quicker as he came closer to his own release, his breath warm against Yohji’s ear coming in little pants. 

He passed his thumb over the slit of Yohji’s cock, caressing the sensitive head. “Come for me, Yohji, please,” he whispered. 

"Ah... ah..." Yohji moaned in response, his balls tightening, orgasm approaching. A blaze of white light filled his mind and he gasped, groaned and shouted, "AYA!" as he climaxed, his cum spilling over Aya's hand. 

That had been unexpected and it was enough to send Aya over the edge and into orgasm in turn. 

“Yohji,” he gasped as he filled Yohji with his warmth. It was bliss, his mind filling with white noise as effective a silence to his doubts as anything could be. His hand moved to hold Yohji as he collapsed against his back. 

Yohji lie there, breathing hard, wrists hurting, fingers tingling from having the circulation cut off. Aya pressed against him, an arm over him as if they were lovers. 

But lovers didn't tie up and rape the people they loved. 

Yohji closed his eyes. _Damn you Fujimiya. Why? Why did you have to do this to me? I'd almost forgotten how good it could be. I'd almost managed to put that behind me permanently, and then you do this._

He wanted to cry. Wanted to beat the hell out of the younger man. 

But most of all, he wanted Aya to fuck him again. 

Aya recovered and moved away. It was time to untie Yohji and face the music, face the blond’s anger and indignation at what he’d done. Problem was he’d do it again given half the chance. 

_Stupid. Stupid. You’ve just blown any chance you had._

He sighed and removed the blindfold from Yohji’s eyes before he undid the scarves binding Yohji’s wrists to the bedframe. 

Yohji sat up, rubbed his abraded wrists and scooted down the bed to untie his ankle. He didn't say a word to Aya, he just got up and headed for the bathroom to find some ointment for his sore skin. 

He didn't want to see or talk to Aya. Not until he'd sorted out what he wanted to do. He was either going to murder the raping bastard or give him a taste of his own bitter medicine. 

Aya stayed where he was, hunched over his knees on the bed, waiting for whatever happened next. 

With his wrists and ankles wrapped in gauze, Yohji came back into Aya's bedroom and searched through the remains of his clothing for his pack of cigarettes and the lighter. He lit up, took a deep drag, exhaled right there in Aya's room. 

He smoked it down to the butt, crushed the remains out on the top of Aya's dresser. Petty, yes, but Yohji was pissed as hell. 

Done with the cigarette he turned his gaze on Aya, the jade eyes smouldering with fury. "You know I'm pissed, right?" he asked, voice cool, calm, face the same one Aya knew from missions. 

Aya looked up then, all emotion hidden behind his usual impassive mask. “You also want me to do it again,” he said with conviction. 

"If you mean I'm a sick bastard that wants to be beaten, tied up, and raped, then you're fucking delusional," Yohji told him. "I didn't want that. Any of it. I tried to make that clear, but you made it clear that only what you wanted mattered." 

Fast as thought, Yohji had crossed the room and leaped on Aya, pinning the younger man to the bed. Their faces only inches apart, Yohji snarled into Aya's face. "You ever touch me again, Fujimiya and I'm going make you wish you'd never seen me. Understood?" 

Aya arched up and caught Yohji’s lips with his own. 

And just as fast Yohji pulled away and slapped Aya as hard as he could. But the damage was done. His cock had gone hard, the head brushing across Aya's cock. 

Aya brought a hand up to his burning cheek as he tried to focus properly without the whole of the Crab Nebula spinning in his vision. His own cock had also jumped to attention again making him realise something about himself. 

Yohji felt the sudden hardening of Aya's cock. Surprise registered in his gaze. Just to be sure, he backhanded Aya, but didn't hit the other man quite as hard. 

Aya turned his head with the blow but then turned back to gaze up at Yohji his eyes full of desire. “Yes.” 

The blond didn't even think about it. He flipped Aya over onto his belly and reached for the scarves that Aya had used to tie him up. 

Aya didn’t even struggle, allowing Yohji to do as he pleased, allowing him his revenge, revelling in it much to his own surprise. 

Yohji leaned over the younger man, his lean body pressing to the red-haired man's back, cock nudging the crack of Aya's ass. "Just remember, you were the one that started this shit, Aya. You, not me," Yohji murmured into the other man's ear as he bound his wrists to the headboard. 

Aya nodded his understanding, done with talk for now. He merely waited for whatever Yohji felt inclined to do to him. 

Done securing Aya, Yohji scooted down the bed, and knelt, taking in the sight of the red-head's pale body. Aya was beautiful. Graceful and lean, all long limbs and sleek torso. 

Every line of his body said predator. 

But he was a predator in need of a lesson. 

One that would remind him he wasn't the only predator. 

And one that would teach him he also wasn't the most dangerous. 

"I asked you to stop, and you refused. You decided that your will was all that mattered. I'm going to show you what a mistake you made, Aya," Yohji warned. 

“Your head might have said stop but your body said otherwise,” Aya said. “But we’re both talking too much. Just get on with it.” 

Yohji sighed. The only thing that would make Aya understand was action, not talk. He studied the firm curve of Aya's ass, made his decision and brought the palm of his hand down on the alabaster skin in a stinging slap. 

Aya actually arched into the slap a slight gasp escaping his lips. Was this what he’d wanted all along? Seemingly so but only from the man he trusted enough to submit himself to. 

The blond's hand came down hard and fast, first on one perfect ass cheek then the other, turning them both red as cherries. 

Aya’s gasps were coming more quickly now and louder. The stinging slaps Yohji was giving him were like gifts to him and his cock was aching and needy from the sting. 

Yohji moved so he was pressing against Aya, his cock teasing the heated skin of Aya's ass. "Where's that cold bastard seme now I wonder?" Yohji whispered into as he nibbled along the edge of Aya's ear. "He got in my face and acted like he ruled the world. Now he's turned into a whimpering uke." 

Yohji pushed his cock between the hot flesh, nudging Aya's anus, teasing him. 

“Where’s the man who only gets turned on by women?” Aya retorted. “Why does the sight of my body turn you on?” 

"Oh, believe me, once I'm done with you, I'm going to happily go back to my pursuit of feminine beauty. But you started this shit, and I'm going to be the one that ends it." 

Yohji kissed his way down Aya's neck, found the junction of neck and shoulder and started to suck, rolling his tongue over the skin, fluttering the tip then increasing the suction, marking the red-head. 

Not only did Aya not protest this treatment he actually moved his head slightly so Yohji had better access to the spot he was marking and gave a little murmur of appreciation and encouragement. 

Yohji made sure the mark was worked into the skin well then he began kissing his way down Aya's back, his hands adding feather light touches working lower and lower until he finally reached the hot burn of Aya's ass. 

When he got to that reddened skin he swept his tongue over the flesh. When Aya's ass was damp he brought his hand down on the already hot skin in a slap that echoed off the walls. 

Aya’s body jumped and he groaned softly. Whether it was a groan of pain or pleasure was impossible to discern. 

Yohji went back to licking Aya's behind, the tip of his tongue dipping between the reddened cheeks, touching Aya's anus, teasing. 

The blond knew exactly what he was doing. And exactly how this whole thing would end. 

And he didn't think Aya had a clue what he was doing. 

He thrust his tongue against the tight hole, spreading the cheeks of Aya's ass to give him better access. 

Aya’s eyes widened. That was unexpected of Yohji, or at least of the woman-loving homophobe he pretended to be. 

His anus twitched responsively, he couldn’t help it. 

Yohji left Aya to rummage around in the chest of stuff the red-head had brought with him. He searched through the sexual aids and toys, finding what he wanted. A blue butt plug that was a series of bulbous ridges and valleys. He coated it with lube and slid it home into Aya slowly, one bulb after another. 

A long drawn out groan was Aya’s response to that. 

When the dildo was set as deep as it could go, Yohji's hand came down on Aya's hip, knowing what the tensing of Aya's ass would do to the hard object inside the younger man. 

Aya’s interior muscles clamped round the dildo pulling it against the bundle of nerves under his prostate. He gasped out loud at that, the sound low and sexy. 

The sound flowed through Yohji's brain, went right to his cock, made it twitch. He closed his eyes, shook his head. _No, I'm not going to do it. I promised._

Yohji crawled up along Aya's body, kissing his way upward, resting his hips against the other man's butt, pressing against the plug. He lowered his head and nibbled along Aya's neck, warm breath flowing over dampened skin. 

"Aya..." he breathed the red-head's name. "Tell me what you want." 

“Haven’t you worked it out yet, Yohji? I want you. Anyway I can get you.” 

"Too fucking bad!" he snarled. "I told you I didn't want this you sick fucking bastard! You raped me so you can fucking rot in hell!" 

He slipped off the bed, glanced at Aya one last time, and walked out of the bedroom. Aya was tied, but he was skilled, given time he'd get free. Meanwhile Yohji was going to find some clothes and call Ken to come and get him. 

Aya closed his eyes. Sick! Rapist! Killer! What right did he have to take what he wanted? He didn’t deserve anything, not even boozy, womanising Kudoh Yohji. 

Dressed, Yohji came into the room, picked up his cigarettes, turned a scathing glare on Aya. "Ken's coming to get me. We're not ever going to discuss this. Not ever Aya." 

He left, slamming the door behind him.


End file.
